


Pictures on the Mantel

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post Bartlett Administration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-31
Updated: 2006-03-31
Packaged: 2019-05-15 11:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14789288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Abbey remembers the past...for a little while...





	Pictures on the Mantel

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Pictures on the Mantel**

by: Caroline 

**Character(s):** Abbey with a mention of Jed, Ellie, Zoey, Annie, Gus  
**Pairing(s):** Jed/Abbey  
**Category(s):** Angst, Post-WH  
**Rating:** CHILD  
**Summary:** Abbey remembers the past…for a little while…  


Her fingers trail across the spotless mantel, no evidence of neglect to be found. She must remember to thank the staff. She touches the pictures, remembering the moments behind each, the emotions associated with every single one-all positive. She briefly wonders why she can't remember those times without the pictures. She knows this is why she is here alone; she'd give anything to change but she doesn't have the strength. 

There's a picture of them-after they had gotten engaged-smiling like young lovers are prone to do, looking in each other's eyes, arms wrapped to create their own world. A private moment interrupted by the flash of her younger brother's camera. 

There's a picture from their first Christmas as parents. A baby on her lap, wrapping paper covering the floor, the tree in the background and snow frosting the window. A tender smile of maternal love captured by her husband. 

There's a picture of two little girls, a brunette and a blonde. Brown eyes and blue eyes twinkling with delight sitting atop their mother's "big girl" horse. The older sister's arms wrapped protectively around her little sister. Two toothless smiles baring themselves to the flash of their mother's camera. 

There's a picture of three bundles of coats and hats and scarves, red noses and gigantic smiles peeking out. Their father standing proudly beside the snowperson family they struggled so hard to build. 

A picture of two grandchildren, breathlessly grinning. A moment of calm during a game of tag frozen forever in a silver pewter frame. 

A picture of two lovers, elderly but still in love. A secret smile stolen for all the world to see. The last picture she has of him. The last picture she will ever have. 

She turns from the mantle. A rocking chair beside a bed, the only furniture in the sparse room. A wish for the past is all she has left. That, and a wish to remember. Things come and go from her memory by the minute-the hardest thing to deal with, other than losing him. That was the proverbial straw that broken the camel's back. Her slow progression into dementia was hurried then-a struggle to escape the pain of reality, the pain of remembering. A wish granted, now wished only to be taken back. 

She rocks silently, waiting for the memories to fade. Waiting for the pictures to be all she is once again left with. Waiting for his face to dissolve from her mind's eye. Waiting to look, once more, at the pictures on the mantel and struggle to remember her life. 


End file.
